


102. three dead hearts

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [2]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7361851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah makes a visit to the witch of the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	102. three dead hearts

The witch of the woods lives in a hut covered in bones. Deer bones, mostly, hopefully, deer jaws hanging from strings, deer hoofs making strange windchime-sounds in the night breeze. The path here was marked with breadcrumbs and gumdrops; apparently the witch can take a joke.

The hut itself crouches in the middle of the woods like an animal. The door is made out of old camouflage material and what looks like a car door. Sarah knocks on it anyway.

“Hello, Sarah,” says a voice from inside. “Come in.”

Sarah does.

The witch is playing Candy Crush on her phone, and does not look up when Sarah comes in. That gives Sarah time to look at her – the weird pink skin around her eyes, blonde hair woven with rodent bones and flowers that are almost too bright to be real. She’s wearing animal skins and a t-shirt with a graphic printed on it that Sarah can’t see. She looks weird, laughable, a cartoon of a tramp that lives under a bridge. Or, she _would_ – but. There’s something dark and hungry and terrifying about her. Something in her that seems like it would eat Sarah alive.

The witch’s phone lets out a burst of triumphant music and she makes a contented noise, turns it off. “New high score,” she says. Her voice is a strangely-accented rasp, like meat stuck to old bones. She watches Sarah with hooded eyes, amused.

“Sit,” she says, patting the ground next to her.

“How’d you know my name,” Sarah says, folding her arms across her chest. She doesn’t want to sit on the ground. She wants to be taller than this thing she’s about to beg for help.

The witch tilts her head to one side; the bones in her hair tap together, making sounds like bells. “I know things,” she says. “I know you have a little girl. I know she is missing.” She shrugs. “I know you are not going to like the price you have to pay, to get her back.”

“Do you have a name?” Sarah spits back at her. Her heart is rattling in her chest, animal bones clicking together over and over.

The witch blinks at her. “Nobody asks,” she says softly, sounding sad. But then her mouth twitches. “Mm, but is secret.” Tap-tap goes her finger against her lips.

“That’s sad,” Sarah says, sitting on the ground next to her. The witch blinks at her again, looking startled; Sarah takes that one bright vulnerable moment to rummage in her backpack and pull out the package of candy she brought. (She’d heard enough rumors. She does know a thing or two about the price.) She puts it on the ground between them.

The witch looks at it, blinks, and then lets loose a long merry cackle. “Being nice won’t change the price,” she sing-songs, and takes the candy anyways. She throws the entire package into her mouth, wrapper and all, and swallows it without chewing.

“So!” she says. “Tell me, Sarah, why you are here.”

“You already know.”

The witch shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe. Some things. Sometimes telling helps.”

“My daughter,” Sarah rasps. “She’s – gone. Someone took her. Don’t know who.” She looks up, determined that the message come through. “I _need_ to get her back.”

“Okay, Sarah,” says the witch. She nods decisively, rummages through the animal skins and pulls out a rubber-banded deck of Pokemon cards. Starts shuffling. This is Sarah’s life now. This is what she’s had to do.

The witch puts down the Pokemon cards in a cross, three by three. She starts flipping them over.

“Your daughter is gone,” she says simply, as the first card is flipped over. “Yes, yes, this I know.” The second card makes her frown. “Something big took her. Angry big hungry.” She flips the third. “Big sacrifice.”

“But what?” she mutters to the cards, and then takes the left and right cards and flips them both over at once. The middle row stares back at Sarah. Banette, Charizard, Gengar. Great.

“…what’s happening?” Sarah says weakly. The witch is biting her lip. Doesn’t answer.

“Innocence for innocence,” murmurs the witch. “Ghosts.” She looks up. “Three deaths.”

“What?” Sarah says, voice weaker than it was a moment ago. “Thr – three? Three deaths?”

“Yes,” says the witch. She taps on the Gengar card. _Life Drain! Flip a coin. If heads—_

“I need their hearts,” says the witch. She holds up her fingers. “Three hearts, Sarah. Three dead hearts. Then I will find your little girl for you. Are we agreeing?”

“I,” Sarah says, and then swallows. “Yeah.”

The witch holds out a hand, and pats Sarah’s chin. Her hand is weird and rough, like sharkskin. “I will be seeing you soon, I think,” she says. “Good luck.”

Sarah can tell a dismissal when she hears one. She stands up, and goes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)
> 
> (The unofficial name for this drabble is "Future Sight," after the Pokemon move, because I'm trash. Glad we've all established this.)


End file.
